Victorian Antidote To Modern Florida

June 2, 1985|By Jeff Kunerth of the Sentinel Staff

OAKLAND — Meadow Marsh is 15 miles and 108 years west of Orlando.

At the end of a shade-dappled brick street, the 14-acre estate of citrus pioneer Luther Tilden is an orphan from the era when broad, wraparound porches, wicker rockers and Southern hospitality were the mainstays of Florida living.

The three-story Victorian house built in 1877 is the centerpiece of this antidote to the excesses of modern-day Florida. Here there is tranquility in the treetops, a se- rene respite from the hucksterism of the World's No. 1 Tourist Destination.

Six years ago, computer software salesman Tom Neblett, 52, and his 39- year-old wife, Judy, bought the Queen Anne-style house and began meticulously restoring it. Late last year, to help pay for the restoration, they converted two upstairs bedrooms into a bed-and-breakfast suite.

For $65 a night per couple (and $20 per additional person), the Nebletts offer tourists a glimpse of the past, an oasis of Florida heritage not so very far from the fairyland castles, performing whales and water-slide wonderlands that comprise the image most tourists have of Central Florida.

''The type of people we're getting are the people who appreciate old houses and old Florida,'' Tom said.

Breakfast is continental style, featuring fresh fruit and Judy's baked goods. The two bedrooms are joined by a shared bath, limiting occupancy to four people who don't mind coordinating potty privileges. The bedrooms, like the rest of the house, are decorated with antique furniture. An ornate gilded- iron bed dominates the larger bedroom.

More than home cooking and antiques, however, what the Nebletts offer visitors is Florida without the schlock. A stay at their house is an introductory course on the area's history and the life of Luther Tilden, an Illinois vegetable farmer who was among those who introduced citrus to Central Florida.

''The Tildens were real doers. They made things happen,'' Tom said. ''In essence, Central Florida's economy was started here. These old houses are the last monuments to these guys.''

The Tilden house is an impressive legacy, a 5,000-square-foot house bracketed by 1,500 square feet of veranda. What began as a two-bedroom cracker-style house grew over the years into an estate of 20 rooms, four baths, six bedrooms and a half-dozen fireplaces.

On the grounds, the Tildens built two tennis courts, extensive gardens, numerous outbuildings and a guest cottage.

The Nebletts are preservation perfectionists unable to disguise their disdain for anyone who ''remuddles'' an old building. The contemporary-style, red-roofed addition to the elementary school across the street is a constant irritant to their restorationist sensibilities.

The Nebletts' long interest in history and old buildings has altered their vision. Instead of vacant stores and decrepit houses, they see Southern heritage on the decline. In multipaned windows, they see works of art. In rusty tin roofs, they see tarnished beauty. And in a small farming community 20 minutes west of Orlando, the Nebletts see an undiscovered Key West, a place where relics of the Old South are still worth salvaging.